It was a scary bus ride to the airport for us and our three little boys, through the shadowy and threatening streets of Tehran, only to arrive at a dark, shut-down airport. Airport authorities said that the tower was closed and there would be no planes, since “Tehran is perfectly safe and there is no reason for you to leave. So, you can’t.”
We were herded into a large waiting area, past a high counter where a guard sporadically checked passports and admitted people into an interior holding area. Penny, an Australian friend, did not have an exit visa, because the Australian Embassy had closed down weeks before. She was separated from her three children and asked us to take them with us if she was barred from departing. I was thinking, “Oh no, now I have six children to manage in an evacuation”, but of course agreed. There was no food, no water, so about noon some of the men braved the streets to buy oranges for the children.
One young couple was in the process of adopting a beautiful little orphaned Iranian boy, an infant. But they hadn’t gotten formal adoption papers yet. There was no chance that he would be allowed to leave the country since the prevailing attitude at that time was “better a child should die in an orphanage than be raised as an infidel.” The mom and dad were understandably hysterical, sobbing and drawing a lot of unwelcome attention.
So a plan was hatched. First, we had to persuade the parents to turn the baby over to us. Penny’s little boy Beau, three, pushed the baby, in his stroller, right past the guard at the high desk, below the guard’s line of vision, into the holding area. The guard never even saw them go by.
Late in the afternoon, Pan Am finally landed a plane at the still-closed airport. Everyone formed a rubgy-type scrum and all 150 of us pushed past the gate, totally overwhelming the gate guards. Penny was in the middle. So was George, who was helping a friend manage the sleeping baby, draped over her arm, and completely covered by her overcoat.
One young couple was in the process of adopting a beautiful little orphaned Iranian boy, an infant. But they hadn’t gotten formal adoption papers yet. There was no chance that he would be allowed to leave the country since the prevailing attitude at that time was “better a child should die in an orphanage than be raised as an infidel.” The mom and dad were understandably hysterical, sobbing and drawing a lot of unwelcome attention.
So a plan was hatched. First, we had to persuade the parents to turn the baby over to us. Penny’s little boy Beau, three, pushed the baby, in his stroller, right past the guard at the high desk, below the guard’s line of vision, into the holding area. The guard never even saw them go by.
Late in the afternoon, Pan Am finally landed a plane at the still-closed airport. Everyone formed a rubgy-type scrum and all 150 of us pushed past the gate, totally overwhelming the gate guards. Penny was in the middle. So was George, who was helping a friend manage the sleeping baby, draped over her arm, and completely covered by her overcoat.
We got on a bus out to the plane, followed by armed guards. They knew something was up, and got on to take a good long look at everyone. We all avoided eye contact. George used his body as a shield and the baby, still draped over our friend’s arm under her overcoat, didn’t make a peep. He slept through the whole thing!
And that’s how we became child smugglers. When we landed in Turkey, the baby was issued emergency paperwork so he was able to subsequently enter the U.S. Our brave friend who held the baby has passed away, and we lost touch with the mother and father. But we know we did the right thing, risky though it was, and hope that he has been a joy to his parents and had a wonderful, fulfilling life as a U.S. citizen.
And that’s how we became child smugglers. When we landed in Turkey, the baby was issued emergency paperwork so he was able to subsequently enter the U.S. Our brave friend who held the baby has passed away, and we lost touch with the mother and father. But we know we did the right thing, risky though it was, and hope that he has been a joy to his parents and had a wonderful, fulfilling life as a U.S. citizen.
Kay and George Tracy
